


Family

by WinterSpells



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, English Winter, F/F, Futa!Winter, Glynda's POV, Happy Ending, Mentions of miscarriage, Sort of an AU, classy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-01-26 09:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSpells/pseuds/WinterSpells
Summary: Glynda Goodwitch is used to getting what she wants, but when she finds out that the one thing she longs for more than anything is considered irredeemable, she realizes that her life will never be the same again, but maybe that's okay.
Relationships: Glynda Goodwitch/Winter Schnee
Comments: 17
Kudos: 24





	1. Apologies and Determination

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at the beginning of October and decided to post it here. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it.

It wasn't always like this. We've always had a routine, sure, but this...this was different. 

We actually tried being spontaneous once, to do something fun and out of the ordinary, and more often than not it'd end in disaster, but you'd give that small smile of yours and say some sort of cheesy line and suddenly everything that had gone wrong seemed right. 

You always made me laugh at those little inopportune moments, something I never expected, but thoroughly enjoyed. Maybe I should have told you that more often...I know I should have done something, because now there's rarely any laughter, any smiles, and I know that's partially my fault.

The day we found out we couldn't have a child because of my infertility, I felt my heart shatter. It was one of the only things I'd ever wanted, and the only thing I couldn't have. You tried your best of course; giving me those reassuring looks, or wrapping me up in your arms when I looked too defeated, but I couldn't help myself. I was weak, and finally, we both knew it, so I pushed you away. 

I couldn't bear it, and even now, instead of focusing on grading these assignments, I'm thinking about you, wishing things were different. It's been like this for nearly a month. I can't seem to concentrate on anything but you, and then when I come home, even when you're five feet away from me, it's like you're not even there. 

Sighing, I stacked the papers neatly into rows and organized my desk. Normally I'd take everything home, but with how things have been lately, it'd be a wasted effort to try. 

It was silly of me to sit out in the car like this. You were probably used to it by now, me coming home later and later to avoid the awkward tension, and you'd probably figured tonight would be no different, but it was. I wanted it to be different; I needed it to be, so I took in a deep breath and squared my shoulders, then slowly exhaled my way out of the car and to the front door. I hesitated opening it, but once I did, I was genuinely surprised to see what was on the other side. Apparently you decided to beat me to it.

"Hey," your voice was soft and delicate, something I'd steadily grown accustomed to over the last several weeks. 

"Hey." I couldn't think of anything else to say, and as I turned to set my things down and get more comfortable, I felt you watching me. 

"You're home early."

"So are you." 

You looked embarrassed now, and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at your reaction. 

"I asked my boss, Cindy, the one who hit on you at the Christmas party last year, if I could leave early because I had personal things to take care of, which is what this is about." 

The table was filled with our favorite foods, a bottle of vintage wine, candles, and you'd even been making a paper crane out of a napkin when I walked through the door. It was the perfect romantic setting, and while I felt warmth at the sight, I couldn't help but be confused by it. 

"Did you make all of this?"

"Oh god no. I mean, I tried, but I bet if you go out to the patio you'll still see the scorch marks from my attempt," you smiled, but it looked more like a grimace, "so instead I called that place we both like and they made all of this for half off." You shrugged and went back to perfecting the crane in your hands. 

"If you didn't know when I'd be home, then why do all of this?"

I watched you hesitate, the bird crumpling ever so slightly. You were nervous but trying not to let it show. 

"I thought you could still have a nice dinner, whether you wanted to have it with me or otherwise." 

I knew you were trying to sound indifferent, and it would have had that effect if you hadn't of been so preoccupied with looking everywhere else but me.

Before I knew it, I was a few feet away, but you wouldn't look at me. 

"Winter." 

I watched you flinch, and that's when I noticed the crane had been crushed by your own hand. 

You couldn't tear your eyes away from it. 

"Winter." 

It took me a moment to realize I hadn't spoken to you, or even called out your name in over a month and a half, and when I took a step forward, you turned around and walked away from me. 

"Winter..." 

I watched your hand tremble as you gently set the napkin down on the counter and pick up another one, slowly and steadily attempting to make another crane. 

"Win-"

"I wanted it to be perfect," your voice was deathly quiet, a little below a whisper, but I could hear all too clearly how your voice cracked at the end. 

"It already is."

"It's not," the napkin ripped and you threw it down, your hand automatically moving to grab another one to start over.

"Everything here is perfection, so we should sit down and enjoy it before it gets too cold." You didn't respond, and I couldn't help but watch your trembling become more pronounced, so I decided to end this standoff once and for all.

"It's just a napkin, Winter." That got your attention. 

"'Just a napkin,'" you scoffed, and I could only imagine the eye roll that followed, "It's obviously more than that."

"It makes for a nice decorative piece, but it doesn't contribute to anything more."

"It doe-"

"Once we've had our fun looking at it, we'll take it apart and use it, then throw it away when we're done." 

The kitchen grew silent, the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet the only indication of noise penetrating the stillness. 

"The paper crane brings everything together, Glynda," you turned to face me again, tears streaming down your face, "It's more than just a piece of trash you can use and throw away." 

It dawned on me how ridiculous it was for us to argue over a napkin, and for you to be crying over it, but it also seemed fitting in an odd way. It was terribly you, terribly us, and I missed that. 

"I'm sorry," the words were out of my mouth before I even had time to properly think about it.

"You're sorry?" your face contorted into something I couldn't identify, but I could guess that an apology was not what you were thinking I'd say.

"I'm sorry," I said the words slowly this time, allowing you to take them apart and examine them for yourself. Even now, in the midst of this odd argument, I couldn't help but be fascinated by this, by you. The way your eyes darkened, almost painfully thoughtful in your examination, and I could swear that I saw the gears in your head turning, wondering if I were telling you the truth or not. I'd seen this look countless times before, but I'd never been on the receiving end until this moment. 

"But I don't...I don't understand." 

I couldn't help but smile, your confusion endearing somehow.

"Don't-no, hey, you don't get to do that."

"Do what?" I couldn't hide my amusement now, and I had to cover the laugh that was threatening to come up with a cough, and you somehow managed a look even more bewildered than before, and with the added stuttering, or chittering, if I really thought about it, like some sort of deranged squirrel, I couldn't hold it in anymore. 

I knew I must have sounded hysterical, the look on your face was proof enough of that, but it felt so good to laugh, especially after brooding for far too long, and I'm afraid to say that it took several minutes for me to compose myself, and even then I continued chuckling as I wiped the tears from my eyes. 

"Were you laughing at me?" The question was soft, as if you were afraid to ask, but your eyes held a fondness that I hadn't seen in what felt like decades.

"Would you hold it against me if I were?" It was as if time had slowed when you smiled at me, and if I hadn't been watching I knew I would have missed it entirely. You hated your smile for whatever reason, but when you decided to give me those big, toothy grins, it made me light up inside, that invisible fire burning me alive, and I knew one day I might actually catch aflame from it, but in all honesty, I hoped I did. Maybe that was my masochistic side, but if you really knew how I felt...maybe you do.

"As much as I want to, I can't. I was absolutely mental, wasn't I?" I felt my thighs clench at the hint of your accent twittering out, and I wanted to hear more. 

"I think we've both been a little mental lately."

"Yes, I suppose we have been," the mumble sounded low, throaty almost, and the look you gave me didn't help, so as I took a step towards you, maybe to show you what I was thinking, you took a step back and looked alarmed. 

"Oh god, I look like a bloody raccoon!" 

"Uh-" 

"No wonder you were laughing at me. By the gods, I look like I've choked on a dick and cried." You were at the sink scrubbing at your eyes before I could even get a surprised gasp of breath out. 

I swore that I hadn't even noticed the makeup, but you called me a liar and kept scrubbing until I begged you to stop. By this time I'd already opened the wine and was nursing my second glass while you wiped off the last remnants of black from your face. 

"Why were you wearing makeup today?"

"I wanted to look nice." I didn't believe that. While you may have wanted to believe everything you did and said was simple, it wasn't. There were always undertones below the surface, and if you didn't notice or care enough, then you'd accept the first answer for what it was and move on, but I couldn't, not knowing when there was always more, so I waited patiently, swishing my wine in its glass before taking a long sip. My eyes automatically closed, and I savored that taste while I could. 

"I thought you'd like it." Ah, so that was it. 

"You look beautiful without it." 

"I know how I look," I opened my eyes at that, watching your finger trace the edge of your own glass, your face thoughtful again, "I just thought that it'd be nice for you to come home to, is all. I mean, I didn't have time to go out and buy that lacy lingerie outfit like I wanted, so food and pretty makeup was the next best thing...but I...I somehow managed to ruin both." 

I felt my heart twinge in sympathy, and I desperately wanted to make things right. 

"Look at me." I made sure to keep my voice as delicate as I could, and you looked up at me, expectant as always. 

"I know dinner didn't go as you planned, but it was perfect in my eyes...and so are you."

"Glynda-" 

"I should have told you that before...I should have said a lot of things, but I was too busy throwing a pity party to noti-"

"I'm sorry." I knew she was going to say something, to retort anything I said, and I was fully prepared to ignore it and move on, but I never expected that. It seemed we were both doing things out of the ordinary tonight.

"You have nothing to be sorry for-" 

"I have a lot, actually. Probably more than you'll ever know." I was in awe of you yet again, or maybe I was envious of the way you could flip that metaphorical switch and be strong, while I never could. Your jaw set, shoulders squared, everything about you so resolute that it made my head spin. 

"But the thing I'm most sorry for is how long I let things slide...for letting you dwell in that dark place when you needed me the most," I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but watch you set your glass aside and walk towards me, somehow growing with each step you took. 

"I promised you that I would never run, that I would never bow under the pressure of whatever you decided to throw at me, and I ended up doing just that. You have no idea how disgusted I am with myself." I briefly noted that my wine glass was gone, set aside somewhere most likely, but you were in front of me now, trapping me against the table and still leaning in close. 

"I was confused earlier when you told me you were sorry, and rightfully so. I'm the one who failed you, Glynda, not the other way around. Maybe if I had told you that, you wouldn't have gone on thinking it was all your fault." 

'Say something,' my brain screamed, 'anything at all, just say something!' Before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I lunged at you, hands cupping the sides of your face to connect your open mouth with mine. You seemed awfully surprised, a feat that was difficult to accomplish, and I nearly let go because of it, but then you gripped me tighter and pressed me against the table hard enough that it started to sting.

I'd never felt more alive until this moment.


	2. Love and Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)

If someone asked me how I ended up hanging off the kitchen table with my skirt bunched around my abdomen and my button-up nowhere to be seen...well if they had enough balls to actually ask me, I'd tell them I had no idea, and that'd be the gods' honest truth.

Before I could continue this train of thought, I felt your tongue flick out against my clit, and in what I assume to be an automatic reaction, my legs stretched out to wrap around your shoulders and cross at the ankles, my heels pressing into your back, pushing you closer to where I needed it most. 

"Stop thinking," I shivered at your deepened tone and pressed my heels harder against you in retaliation. 

"I wasn't-oh...oh god…" I nearly choked when I felt your nails dig into the fleshy parts of my ass, your grip harsh as you tugged me to the edge of the table, taking the table clothing and everything else with it. 

"Win...Winter-" I wanted to care, to tell you to stop so we could clean up what was bound to be a gigantic mess, but I felt a low rumbling against my thighs; a warning to stop and be in the moment, and as much as I wanted to hear it again, or to see what you'd do if I prodded enough, I decided to let it go for now...as if you really gave me much of a choice. 

I vaguely remember flashes of light and the smell of red wine, laying on a hard, scratchy surface, the look in your eyes as you made love to the most intimate part of me-

I took in a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes, taking my time to blink and adjust to my new surroundings. I reached over and put on my glasses to see I was naked in our queen-sized bed, the room nearly pitch black save for the sparingly lit scented candles you deemed a "must have" for the bedroom. I never agreed with you until now, but I'd never tell you that.

"Where are you?" I mumbled, and that's when I heard rustling sounds from the kitchen. Oh right...that. 

I chuckled quietly, thinking I'd walk out there and give you a good "I told you so" when I heard the click of the knob. I opened my mouth to say exactly that, but when I saw you, what I wanted to say flew out the window. 

Why your shirt was off, I couldn't exactly fathom, though one of your bra straps had dropped down and was hanging loosely at your side, and the low riding jeans completed the look, but what I was most interested in had to be what was inside those jeans. 

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," light and airy, your voice was that of an angel, but with devilish intent. 

"How long was I…?"

"Long enough for me to clean the kitchen. If I hadn't, I can only imagine what you would have done to get back at me." I can certainly think of a few things. 

You smirked, and that's when I realized I had said that out loud. 

"Is that right?" 

It wasn't a question. 

"So tell me what it is you're thinking." You neared the bed, and before I could say anything your bra was off and I was stuttering like a fool. 

That didn't bother you, of course it didn't. If anything, you must have found it charming. 

"Please don't tease me."

"You seemed to like it earlier." 

"That was different." 

"I don't think it was." Your fingers gripped the belt loops of your jeans and slowly pushed down, my mouth watering at the sight. 

"Close your eyes."

"Huh?" Not the most intelligent response I've ever made, but it made you laugh, and that seemed to be the most important thing to come out of this interaction. 

Or so I thought.

I felt you gently remove my glasses, and the quiet tink it made from being set on the table was the only thing I heard before silence took over. I wasn't sure how long I sat there, and it took nearly all of my willpower to not open my eyes and tell you loud and clear to get the show on the road, but then I felt something brush against my thigh and my pulse quickened. It happened again a few moments later to my stomach, and I felt it clench in response, then I felt your lips on mine and I lost myself in you. 

"Winter."

You had kissed me until I was breathless, your member hard against my stomach, yet you were still determined to tease me, your lips pressed against my breast. You just had to have your way, didn't you?

"Winter." 

I was flat on my back without a moment's hesitation. I'd barely gotten the world to right itself from the sudden movement when I saw you above me, your eyes filled with tenderness, but your grip on my hips demanding and possessive. 

"Tell me what you want."

"You." The word was panted out, the only thing I could think of, had been thinking of all day, but now that I could actually say it, it's all I wanted to say. 

"Winter…" I'd been chanting your name for who knows how long, but I knew you liked it as much as I did, if the low rumbles and murmurs were anything to go by. 

I mumbled your name again, tightening my hold around you like a snake suffocating its prey, my nails digging into your back, but that only seemed to encourage you to keep going. 

"Winter!" I'd lost count after three, and through the haze, I heard you mumble something, I wasn't sure what, but suddenly I was on my hands and knees with my head pressed deeply into the pillow. I could feel everything clearly now: the way my stomach muscles clenched almost painfully, how my arms and legs turned to jelly, making it ten times harder to hold myself up, yet I somehow managed it, or how your grip on me only tightened as time went on, your length pushing deeper and deeper, spreading me open, claiming everything I am and ever will be as yours. 

My muffled screams and your hushed gasp as you came were the last things I heard before I tumbled over into the darkness.


	3. How The Tables Have Turned (Featuring Cuddles)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like smut then I'm sorry because that's a majority of what you're getting ;)

When I awoke the first time, it was incredibly brief and hazy, but the feelings I had stayed with me. I was warm and sore in all of the best places, and with a tickling sensation at my lower back, I easily slipped into slumber once more. 

When I awoke the second time, your breasts were pressed against my back, your little man poking around against my ass, but I knew it wasn't intentional, or well, not really. I wiggled my hips slightly, and I heard you mumble something, so I wiggled again. 

"Da birds took me crumpets mummy…" I laughed through my nose as I slowly shifted around to face you, my hand reaching up to brush aside your bangs to place a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

"I love you, my little crumpet." Even as my eyes closed, that small smile on your face stayed with me until I fell asleep again. 

The third time I awoke, your side of the bed was cooling and you were nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until I lazily stretched out across the bed that I heard water running in our conjoined bathroom. 

It took me longer than I'd care to admit, but I actually managed to make my way into the bathroom, and with the hot steam pouring over me with the accompaniment of your quiet singing, I felt at peace for the first time in ages. 

"I know you're in here, Marie." You only called me by my middle name when I was in trouble, or if you were feeling devilish. I wasn't a gambling woman by any means, but if I had to put my money on something, it might have been the latter. 

"Was I that obvious?"

"No, but when I can feel holes being burned into my skin I usually assume it's you."

"I'm not that bad." 

"No, you're just…" I opened the shower door and stepped inside, the steam briefly reaching it's wispy claws out to grab me and pull me in, only to be surprised that I came willingly, like I always do. 

"I'm just what?" You had turned slightly to the side to look at me once I shut the door, an arm draped casually over your soapy breasts, but then you turned your back to me, taking your sweet time to answer the question. 

"You're a lot of things, so where would I start?"

"I'd start by treading carefully if I were you," I teased quietly, taking a step closer to place your hair over your shoulder and gently trace my finger down from the top of your spine, all the way down until it ended just above your ass. I took great pleasure in feeling you shiver, but I knew that if I had asked, you would complain about the water not being hot enough. 

"Your presence demands to be known when you walk into a room, even if that's not exactly what you want most of the time," I pressed myself into your back in order to hear you more clearly, my fingers wandering across the smooth skin I found there, "and you're the only one who has ever looked at me with such a burning intensity that could rival a sun going supernova."

I scoffed and pressed my lips against your neck, causing your pulse to flutter. 

"I'm sure that's not true."

"I can assure you that it is."

"Well, I recall a certain red-headed woman who gave you the "fuck me eyes" every chance she got." I hadn't even noticed my hands had moved to your breasts until you whimpered, but when I did, it didn't stop me from making a point of squeezing them again, if only to hear you once more. 

"She had some sort of slutty name, didn't she? What was it?" 

"H-Heaven." I smirked against your throat and felt your pulse thumping. Good. 

"Heaven...that's right, I remember now. She was practically all over you, touching your arm or your shoulder, gushing and praising you as if she were the only one who knew you, but she isn't," I punctuated my words by letting my hand slide down your slick stomach, "she's nothing." 

I felt more than heard you choke on your breath when I grabbed your cock. "Thinking about her being like that with you...touching you, it makes me angry," you were between panting and not breathing at all as I stroked firmly along your length, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride bloom in my chest, "but thinking about her touching you like this? It makes me downright murderous."

"G-Glynda...Glynda…" The way you were saying my name like that, it made me wonder if that was how I sounded the night before, but I locked the thought away for the moment and decided to enjoy it all, seeing as how you preferred giving pleasure instead of receiving it, so this was a rare treat I was determined to savor.

You, however, didn't seem too keen on the idea, especially when I stopped right at the moment you were about to release. 

You practically growled out my name, and when you turned to face me for the first time since I stepped into the shower, I saw that your eyes were full of fury, but they were clouded with arousal and a need for more, for something, so I pulled you in and kissed you with as much passion as I had, possibly even more than that. I had you distracted again, so when I did manage to pull away a second time, you were too dazed to say anything, and I took that moment to lower myself on my knees and wait. Once your eyes cleared enough to look at me, I gently grabbed you and slid my tongue along your need before wrapping my mouth around it completely. 

As I was swallowing, I contemplated on how I'd never seen your eyes roll to the back of your head before, but it was one of the most erotic things I've ever seen and caused. 

You could barely hold yourself up, what with how hard your legs were shaking, so you had to lean against me as we stepped out of the shower, and that's where you proceeded to slur "you absolute walnut" and passed out on my shoulder. I ended up having to dry the both of us off, then carry you to bed, and even when I tossed you down, you didn't stir. A natural disaster wouldn't be able to wake you, but your snoring was loud enough to wake the dead. 

Normally I hated when you snored, and I would have gladly grabbed the nearest pillow to smother you, but it felt different this time. More tender, perhaps. I leaned down, covering you with our comforter and kissed your cheek before going to my side and getting settled in under there with you, the book on the nightstand calling my name. I couldn't remember the last time I did this; laying here in bed with you on a quiet Saturday morning, probably early afternoon now, reading a book and enjoying the moment..

I was incredibly focused on what was happening in the book that I hadn't even noticed you stopped snoring, or the fact that you had shifted over until you were practically glued to my side. It was only when you started nudging me that I glanced over, your eyes cloudy with sleep and your lips slanted to the side in the odd form of a pout you liked to do when you were dissatisfied or weren't getting your way.

"May I help you?" I asked, using the professional, strict tone I saved for when I was working. Your lips twitched subtly, as if you were trying to keep yourself from smiling. 

"I'm cold."

"Are you?" I looked back at the pages of my book and waited. Every so often we played this game: you, pouting and needy, but not wanting to admit it, and me, ready and waiting for you to stop acting silly and do what you wanted to do. I couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the thought. 

After all these years, you still tried to act like a tough and brooding teenager when we both knew you weren't that person anymore. You had those moments, yes, of course you did, but deep down you were soft and huggable, like a teddy bear. Why you decided to struggle through when you could immediately get what you wanted, I had no idea, but I decided to play along for the moment, if only because you amused me. 

I had actually started reading again and was about to turn the page when I felt you nudge me a second time. 

"Yes?" 

It went quiet, and when I looked at you this time, you looked more pleading than sleepy.

"Use your big girl words, Elizabeth." The eyebrow twitch was not lost on me; if anything it made me smile. 

"I want cuddles." 

"Was that so hard?"

"Yes. I nearly choked on my own spit." 

I rolled my eyes at your childishness before I settled down in a more comfortable position, and once I was done you curled up on top of me. 

You reminded me of a kitten when you got like this, especially when you made those low, rumbling noises in your chest when I played with your hair, or even when I alternated between rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, or scratching a particular spot between your shoulder blades that made you squirm. 

You were asleep within minutes, and without even realizing it, I had drifted off too.


	4. The Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a short chapter because I have no self control, but future me will fix any sort of mess current me has left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super excited to finish this so I can get started on another writing of the babes!

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly a month since those tense, uncertain days. 

Our lives had steadily gone back to normal, and our relationship seemed stronger than it had ever been.

I didn't know if you could understand how grateful I was for that, for you, but more often than not I'd find you looking at me with a gentleness I hadn't had the privilege to see in some time, and during those moments I came to realize more and more that maybe you did know. 

You were treating me differently because of that, I think. 

More often than not I'd find you rummaging around in the kitchen when I walked in the door, muttering and swearing to yourself as you tried to not burn the house down. It amused me, and really, I had to give you some credit. The cookbooks and practice were really paying off, and it felt nice to sit down and eat after a long day, instead of having to make dinner myself. 

Not to say that sometimes we had to order in because the dish you made tasted more like charcoal than whatever it was supposed to be, but I called that progress.

You also seemed more attentive than usual. Refilling my wine glass without prompting, asking me about how my day had been, and something I've begun to notice recently is that you carried sticky notes on your person. 

I found them on your pillow on the days you had to leave early; your strenuous days, on the bathroom mirror, in and on the refrigerator, and anywhere else you could manage to stick them. They varied from your declarations of love to soft compliments, and other times they'd have a random fact you'd heard or looked up. I asked you about the notes, but all I had gotten was a shrug and a secretive smile. 

I looked down at the two notes in my lap. One of them had your delicate cursive on it, stating how much you adored me, and on the back, you explained that the notes helped you remember to say all the things you felt, and that you knew I secretly liked them, which is why you enjoyed doing it all the more. The other one was scrawled in a hurried way, stating that you were going to be late tonight because of a mandatory meeting. 

I tried very hard to not be disappointed, but it wasn't working as well as I wanted it to. If anything, I was more nervous than disappointed, anyway. 

I placed the notes in my journal, the pages filling out quite nicely with the different colors, like a controlled rainbow. I traced over them, trying to calm my nerves. 

My cell rang then, making me nearly jumped out of my skin. 

"Hello?" I cleared my throat. My voice was too wobbly for my liking. 

"Baby?" The soft sigh came out of me before I could stop it. "What's wrong?" 

"I...today hasn't been good." Pathetic.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Your voice had taken on a soothing tone, making me wish you were actually here to hold me. 

"It's silly." I heard you click your tongue.

"Your feelings aren't silly, dear." 

I hummed quietly. Even after all this time, I had yet to get used to that aspect of a relationship.

"Is something wrong over there? You rarely call me when you're working." 

There was a beat of silence. You knew I was changing the subject, and I desperately hoped you'd go along with it. 

"Maybe I was just missing you." 

I closed my eyes to keep the sudden onslaught of tears at bay. 

"I miss you too." I didn't even bother to hide the voice crack. 

"Glynda…" There was shuffling in the background, then silence. 

"I know you're busy, so I'll leave you to it."

"Are you at your office?" 

I paused and listened to the shuffling again, then muffled voices. 

"Winter?"

She repeated the question.

"I...no. I came home. I...I couldn't focus." 

I bit my lip as the voices got a little louder, but then you murmured something, making them disappear almost instantly. 

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm not up for anything."

"A salad then."

"Winter-"

"I'll be there in two shakes and a wiggle, my darling." 

I looked at my cell, seeing the call had been disconnected. 

Oh god.


	5. The Calm Before The Storm Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Women can be so difficult sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on break so hopefully I'll be writing some more.

I felt your presence before I heard it. It was always that way with you: the molecules in the air suddenly grew and morphed, becoming electrified and intense. 

When you made yourself known, truly and honestly, there were secret promises made, promises of more, and normally I would have a hard time controlling myself, but today was not my day. 

I didn't move from my spot on the couch when the door opened, nor did I move when I watched you weave around the dining room table to get to the fridge. You'd dropped your things off in one of the chairs, your bag teetering over precariously, but it didn't fall. 

"Glynda?" 

I took my time to slide my eyes to your face, noting the small stains and tears in your clothing. They must have had you working outside today. 

"Glynda."

Your eyes were clouded with worry, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say fear was tinged within them as well. 

"Your eyes have always been the most expressive part of you. Did you know that?" 

A raised eyebrow was my only response, so I kept talking.

"And I also can't help but wonder why you left work. Surely you have better things to do, like that meeting you mentioned."

The eyebrow twitched, but still nothing. 

"Talk to me." 

"You talk to me first." Dammit.

"I've been talking."

"You've been blubbering, dear. Those are completely different things." 

I was the one to opt for silence this time, and it lasted long enough for you to sigh heavily and sit down next to me on the couch. It looked as if the weight of the world were upon your shoulders, and I hated that I was the one to put it there. 

"We can keep dancing around this, or you can tell me and we can work-"

"I'm late." 

You blinked at my interruption before your brain seemed to kick start itself.

"Uhm, well, I mean, you are getting up there, not to say that's anything bad, but I mean-"

I knew it wasn't flattering, not in the slightest, but your fumbling made me smile.

"I'm not going through menopause, Winter."

At least you had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Well I mean, contrary to popular belief, it can happen earlier than the norm, like mum, after she had little Whit and she was grumpier than normal because of the hot flashes and the-"

"I took a pregnancy test. Well, several, actually." 

That stopped all movement. 

It was sort of amusing in a way, to see your eyes widen, or the way you stared at me open mouthed before impersonating a fish out of water. 

"I uhm," you cleared your throat and looked as if you were about to faint, "what uhm, what does that mean, exactly?"

"They all tested positive." I couldn't help but say the words slowly, my hands unconsciously reaching out to grip your arm. 

"So you're…" My heart clenched as you looked at me with tears in your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." 

Saying the words out loud made this whole situation real, and that scared the absolute shit out of me. 

"But...but Doctor Wilson said that your ovaries, that your womb was…" You made wild hand gestures now, and I couldn't help but squeeze your arm until it left a red mark. 

"I know."

You stared at me, too many emotions crossing over your face as you did. I could only imagine you were trying to figure out if this was some sort of awful practical joke. 

"How?" That was certainly the question, wasn't it?

"I don't know." Besides the obvious reasons of course, I didn't know what to say. I couldn't give a justifiable response to any of this. "But what I do know is that if those tests are truly positive," I paused, desperate to not say the words that had been racing through my head, like a train about to derail, "then I...I don't want it." 

I didn't know how long we'd sat there like that; with me gripping your arm like some sort of life preserver, and your eyes glossed over, looking right through me. 

It felt as if time had slowed, honestly. I'd never seen that particular look on your face before, and it really was quite the sight to see your eyes slowly beginning to light up again with recognition, but it wasn't the usual brightness I was used to. 

You had a hard time looking me in the eye now, and as I heard you swallow down the lump in your throat, you attempted to, but couldn't quite manage it. 

"Why?" A hushed question, one not meant to startle or hurt me, but it was filled with such pain that it managed to cut me to the bone. 

"Because I don't trust this." 

"You don't-"

"I don't," the firmness of my tone made you flinch, but I kept going, "we've been trying to have a baby for years, Winter, and the one time it worked, I couldn't...I couldn't do it." 

I hadn't noticed that your hand was on my thigh until I felt a rough squeeze. 

"When Wilson said I couldn't conceive, something broke inside of me, something I will never get back." 

I forced myself to relax my grip on your arm, and instead I placed my hand against the top of your collarbones, my fingers grazing along the base of your neck. This soothed me somewhat, and it finally made you look at me, but with that haunted look in your eyes, I wasn't necessarily convinced this was a win on my part.

"I can't allow myself to hope, because if I do, it will destroy me completely, and I can't...I can't do that to myself. I can't do that to you. Not again." 

"Glynda-"

I shook my head, my fingers pressing slightly.

"No." The sense of despair that washed over me was far worse than the nervousness I had felt earlier. Even those feelings felt like a lifetime ago. "I set up an appointment with Doctor Wilson for tomorrow morning to see what I can do about this." 

The haunted look slowly dissipated, but anger took its place. 

"I never would have known, would I?" It wasn't a question.

"I...I had hoped I could-"

"That you could do this quickly and quietly, while I would have been none the wiser."

You attempted to get up, but my fingers clamped around your throat, making you hiss. 

"I've thought about this seriously and-"

"I don't believe you." 

Anger was an emotion I knew well. I'd consider us to be close, like old friends, but this type of anger, or one could even refer to it as rage, I wasn't sure how to go about dealing with it. 

Oddly enough, you were the levelheaded one out of the two of us, but to see you like this…

Well. 

"It's for the best, Winter."

"Because you say so?" Your lip curled up into a snarl, making the rational part of me nearly afraid of you.

"Yes."

"You don't get to decide-"

"I do!" I tightened my grip, then loosened it. "Don't you understand that I can't put us through that kind of pain and misery again?" I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You never said a word, but I knew you were as heartbroken about it as I was."

The fire in your eyes dimmed.

"Not being able to give you what you wanted the most hurt me far more than I could ever express."

I slid my hand down and placed it on your chest, your heart thundering against your ribs. 

"You know if I could, I'd give you all the babies you could ever want."

The sensitivity you held for not being the typical woman had lessened over the years, but for things like this, it felt like the literal elephant in the room. The dream you once held of carrying a child had been abandoned long ago. 

If only I had known the metaphorical baton had been passed on to me, then maybe we could have opted out of this situation altogether. 

"Winter-"

"It's not my place; I know that, and I do respect it, but please...please reconsider. There are plenty of other options that we have yet to explore, and I know we could if we could just…" 

It occured to me how odd it was to witness the full circle of emotions you'd experienced in only a matter of minutes, seeing as how you were back to looking so distraught, those tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. 

"Please." 

How could I refuse? 

"Alright, sweetheart."

Maybe this would make you understand what's been going through my head, but I didn't dare hold my breath for that.

You just had to be so goddamn stubborn, didn't you?


	6. Things Are Never Easy When You're Involved (Featuring Fear & Decisions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more angst because I'm really feeling it today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to "The End Of All Things" by Panic! At The Disco

"Talk to me." 

I kept silent. We were nearly home.

"Glynda."

I stared out the window, noting how the leaves were slowly changing color. I wanted to smile, but couldn't bring myself to do so. 

The next few minutes of silence must have been agony for you, though part of me didn't really care. You were the one who started this, and you were the one who was going to finish it one way or another. 

I heard the steering wheel squeak, and I dared a glance over towards you. You were white-knuckling it, your body tense, lips in a fine line. I couldn’t tell if you were angry or on the verge of tears, but I’m sure it had to be a combination of the two. 

The hushed exhalation you made wasn’t lost on me, nor the way your eyes flickered over to me for the briefest moment before you flicked on the turn signal, my own surprised exhalation entering the air as the car jerked slightly.

The rhythmic clicking was the only sound as you pulled over on the side of the road. You turned the signal off and parked, your hands loosening on the wheel. You weren’t tense anymore, in fact, your body looked limp, like jelly. How you deflated in only a matter of moments, I hadn’t the faintest clue. 

“I know you’re angry with me.” I wasn’t. Not necessarily, at least.

You stared at your hands before moving them to your lap, then shifted so you could lean back against the headrest, your eyes staring vacantly out of the windshield. 

“I’m tired.” It wasn’t a lie.

“I’m sure you are.”

Nothing was said for several minutes, the silence growing thick again. My hands twitched.

“I didn’t think it was right of you to agree with the doctor about thinking over my decision, knowing I’ve already made up my mind.” There, I said it.

“I’m not allowed to disagree with you?” It didn’t sound like a question.

“When it comes to my body, no, you’re not.”

I thought that would get a reaction, but nothing. You only stared.

“Wilson said-”

“I don’t give a damn.” I practically hissed at you, and some part of me was shocked. I’d never done that before. “I allowed you to come with me because you begged, and you still have the nerve to be dissatisfied with the outcome.”

Your hands tightened into fists, the white-knuckles making an appearance once more. 

“How dare you,” I continued on, downright seething at this point, and I turned my body to look at you. I wished you would glance over, if only to see the fire in my eyes. I wanted to burn you alive. “How dare you do this to me again.”

I opened my mouth to say more, to belittle you perhaps, but you stopped me.

“You’re right.” I couldn’t remember a time where your voice had been so monotone.

“What?”

“I said you’re right." You looked annoyed as you stared back down at your hands, flexing and grounding them into your thighs. 

That was certainly a first. Normally you had such an issue with admitting you were wrong, but...but maybe you weren't, this time. 

"What-"

"I'm sorry, Glynda."

I really couldn't have been more speechless. 

"I was excited, you know, when you started talking to me that day, and the ones that followed, but I kept messing up and ruining things, like I always do, and then you were kissing and holding me again and I didn't think...I never think." Your voice quivered and your hands shook. "Now you have to pay the consequences for my idiocy."

My insides turned to mush at that, my ire instantly disappearing. I swallowed several times to get that sorrowful lump down and out of sight. 

"Winter…"

You took a deep breath and slowly released it, your hand coming up to press at the spot between your eyes with both your index and middle finger.

Before I could fathom what I was doing, my hands were already on you, brushing the bangs from your face and moving your hand aside to caress the spot. 

"Migraine?" I already knew, but when you closed your eyes for a few moments, only to open them again, like a very long blink, it confirmed everything.

"It's nowhere near the pain you must feel."

I stared at you a little dumbfounded, but I managed to make you smile when I rolled my eyes and huffed. 

"You silly little woman."

There was a glint in your eyes for a moment, then your expression sobered, the anxiety and pain crystal clear.

"Part of me is glad you're speaking again, but the other part, the little voice, it says I don't deserve such kindness from you, and it's right, isn't it?"

I knew that little voice all too well. It had been incredibly overwhelming in the beginning of our relationship; it was constantly nagging and berating every little thing I did, or it would try to convince me that the nice things you said and did were only to get me into bed and leave. I couldn't stand the thought of that, but you ended up easing that voice away, until one day it stopped. 

My stomach clenched painfully, knowing I didn't help you as well as you had with me, unknowingly or otherwise. 

I felt the air leave my lungs at the warmth of your palm against the back of my hand. I hadn't even noticed that our hands were on my stomach until I looked down.

"Do we need to go back?" 

It was odd, looking into your eyes and seeing so much compassion, and what was that, exactly? Acceptance? 

"Everything's fine, Winter."

Your eyebrows scrunched in an adorable way before you winced, your eyes closing once more. 

"I wish that were true."

I pressed my thumb against your forehead for a moment before sliding my hand down to cup your cheek. 

"It is. It will be." I really couldn't tell where these reassurances were coming from, seeing as how only minutes before I had wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but love did crazy things, I suppose.

"I don't know about that, Glynda." 

You opened your eyes again, your gaze slightly unfocused, and those little wrinkles appeared, showing your discomfort. 

"Let me drive home."

"I'll be fine."

I pursed my lips. 

"Don't be stubborn."

"You mean don't be like you?" Your lower lip wobbled, your eyes showing the regret you felt, but I only smiled. 

"Yes," you looked surprised, which only amused me further, "Please don't be like me, Winter." I was a stubborn old fool who took things for granted far too often. 

Obviously something needed to change. 

After a few minutes of you looking like you wanted to tear your hair out from the pain, you finally let me drive us home. 

I held your hand the rest of the drive, and only let go when we had to get out of the car. 

"You're an odd woman, you know?" You'd said that with a small, cheeky grin, and I couldn't help but smile back. 

"And you're lucky I'm so soft and nurturing when you're hurting."

The grin went away, where something more solemn took its place. 

"I am lucky, Glyn, I just wish you could see that." 

I never knew what to say when you decided to become philosophical, so instead, I opted for the easy way out and suggested we take a nap. You readily agreed, of course, so after I pulled all of the curtains over the windows and lit one of the many candles you kept, you had finally relaxed long enough to sleep. 

I knew I wouldn't be able to, so I chose to watch you. 

The rise and fall of your chest was comforting, as were the little noises you made every so often. You were never necessarily a sound sleeper, and for once I found myself grateful. 

My eyes rose to your face when you mumbled something, huffed, and then rolled over onto me, face to chest, your hand resting comfortably on my stomach. 

I instantly felt a little silly, if not a tad more comfortable. When you'd done it earlier, I felt nervous, afraid, but now, now I couldn't deny the feeling of peace. It felt right, somehow. 

"You're absolutely relentless, aren't you?" 

You nuzzled my breasts in reply. Typical. 

Sighing, I threaded my fingers through your hair, the feeling of contentment washing over me as I did. I eventually drifting off to the sight of your smile.

I ended up dreaming of a little girl with ocean blue eyes.


	7. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you all enjoyed reading it.

It was therapeutic watching you. You'd never admit it, but you were a rather clumsy teenager, always smacking into things and bruising easily, so being able to see you glide your way around the house and through the kitchen, swaying your hips hypnotically to the beat of the song playing, it felt as if my body would spontaneously combust at any moment.

It was a rather comforting thought.

"You'll make me blush if you keep staring at me that way, dear." 

My eyes snapped up to your face in time to see the pleased smirk etched there before you turned away. 

"As if I can help it, with you galavanting around the house like that." 

A weak argument, seeing as how you've always done as you pleased, but it was all I could come up with at the moment. 

"As if you don't love it." You ended the statement by smacking your ass, and it felt like I couldn't breathe for a second. 

"Mommy!" 

You turned quickly, your face lighting up with such love and excitement that any breath I had gained was lost again. 

"Why hello there, my little Ladybug." 

The squeal she gave as you picked her up briefly overpowered the music playing, and the grins you gave each other were mischievously contagious. 

Then you both looked over and it was as if time stopped. 

Two sets of baby blue eyes stared at me, carefully picking my soul apart and piecing it back together, making me feel more vulnerable and raw than I could have ever imagined, but I'd never felt more complete in my life. 

"Will you come play with me, Momma?" If she gave me that wounded puppy dog look, it'd all be over. "If you aren't too busy looking at Mommy, that is." 

Why that cheeky little monkey. 

"Lunch is about ready, sweetie, so why don't you go ahead and wash up for me? We can all play after, if you want."

"But-"

"No buts, my love," you set her back down on her feet, a gentle but stern look in your eyes, "now shoo." 

Her lips slanted in the form of a pout, one I was all too familiar with, but then you tilted your head and smiled in that soft, patient way I've become used to, and the moment passed, forgotten.

"If I have to wash my hands, Momma does too." 

"Clever girl." The grin was back, and it nearly blinded me when it was aimed in my direction. 

"C'mon Momma, you can stare at Mommy all you want when we get back." 

She led me by the hand to the bathroom, her long, platinum blonde hair swishing as she walked. It still amazes me to see how she had those natural dirty blonde streaks in it. An odd combination from both her mother's, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. 

I watched as she pulled her stool out and stood on it, going through the hand washing process without help or prompting. 

"I think you need a haircut." 

The face she made in the mirror had me chuckling.

"Not you too! Mommy keeps saying that, but I don't want to...not yet."

"Soon." My fingers itched to thread through her hair, to caress her head, but I settled for grabbing the hand towel and drying her hands off. 

"Momma?"

"Hmm?" I looked into those baby blue eyes once more and noticing the flecks of green there. They were more pronounced today. 

"I love you." 

If I hadn't known any better, I would have said my ribs cracked at the way my heart had burst inside my chest at those words. 

"I love you too, Sunshine." 

It had been a difficult pregnancy for the both of us. I was out of my mind ninety percent of the time, and you were trying so damn hard to keep it together, and to keep me happy, but we were at the end of our rope until she finally came into the world. 

Suddenly everything seemed worth it, as if this was the most important thing I would ever do. 

And it was. 

"Yeah?" 

I nodded, not being able to properly express my love for this beautiful little human, and after washing and drying my own hands, she led me back to the kitchen where you were putting the final touches of our lunch on the table. 

You looked up when we entered, everything about you looking extremely relaxed and calm. I couldn't help but feel the same. 

"Amelia, dear, what kind of juice do you want?"

"Apple!"

A chuckle and an eye roll were your response. 

"Of course. Glynda?" 

"I think I'll have apple, too." 

"Alright, my darlings." 

As I was helping Amelia get settled at the table, I couldn't help but watch you. 

You turned then, the smile on your face ever present, but concern in your eyes. 

"What is it?" 

I looked around at the scene before us, a quiet sense of awe filling me. 

Amelia was already shoving half of the sandwich you had made in her mouth, her eyes sparkling as she did, and you, both hands filled with our two glasses, looking contently concerned. 

I smiled and grabbed one of the glasses from you, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

There was a moment where you stood still, as if waiting for something, and then you kissed me back. 

"Everything's perfect." 

And it was.


End file.
